Chapter 23
Josette
What was it about the powerful man I couldn’t seem to get enough of? How could I hunger as much as I’d done, becoming unraveled from his touch alone?
Panting, I pushed up from the cushions, almost laughing seeing just how comfortable Indiana had made himself on the other end of the couch. He was snoring, completely unaware his mommy dog was being fucked like an animal.
And that she loved every moment of it.
Yet the same woman felt guilty, realizing every time the powerful man said her name, it was one big lie.
How had I allowed myself to get into this position? Why was my entire little world crumbling right before my eyes?
Could Sinclair help me? Would he even want to when he learned the truth? My eyes burned from the ache behind them and the few tears I’d shed. More out of frustration than anything.
I’d sensed the moment he’d walked into the room something had changed. In him. In me. In whatever we were doing. I’d felt the tension in the room and had seen the difference in his eyes just moments before.
He was holding his temper, waiting for me to confess all my sins.
I felt like some bad little girl who’d been caught red-handed stealing a toy yet forced to wait for her punishment for hours.
The feel of his cock throbbing deep inside reminded me how intense our connection was, now electric every touch had become. He was making good on reminding me that he wasn’t a man who allowed the word ‘no’ in his vocabulary.
I shuddered inwardly as he pulled out, plunging into me again. The angle was different, the sensations rocketing through me like pings of the most intense heat possible.
Sinclair fisted my hair and planted his foot on the floor, sliding in and out with savage thrusts.
And every inch of my skin tingled even as the anticipation of what needed to be said weighed heavily on my mind.
Whatever we were doing had nothing to do with love or even romance.
This was about control and fulfilling needs.
Yet with every stroke of his cock, I was whisked away into a safer place, one where I knew he would honor his promise of protecting me.
But what if I’d placed his life in jeopardy? What if I was the target and not him?
I cinched my eyes shut as he continued fucking me, allowing the rough passion to sweep me away from reality.
He refused to stop, every muscle straining. Beads of sweat fell from his face, tickling my skin. I loved it as I did almost everything else about him.
His masculinity.
His strength.
His forcefulness.
His lips.
And my God, his long and thick cock.
When he pulled his shaft free, tapping my bottom, I threw my head over my shoulder, barely able to see his face in the shadows.
Unable to decipher the look on his face.
But there was no doubt it was one of full control.
He truly believed he owned me.
Using his knee, he pushed my legs as far apart as the confines of the couch would allow. When he rubbed his slickened cockhead up and down the crack of my ass, I stiffened, unable to keep a gasp from slipping free.
“Relax, sweet Josette. I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet even as he uttered the words, he brought his palm down on my bottom, moving from one side to the other.
I was even more floored than before the startling rush of sensations furrowing throughout my body.
He repeated his actions, smacking my bottom six or seven times. I arched my back, pushing up and meeting every brutal crack of his hand. What were my actions telling him, that I wanted him to control me?
Own me?
Maybe I was tired of being and fighting alone.
Panting, when he repeated the lurid act one more time, I was ready to beg him to fuck me however he wanted.
There was no need. Suddenly, his thumb found my dark hole.
He pumped several times, the discomfort pushing whimpers from my throat.
But I craved more, pushing up from the couch, bucking against his hand.
His chuckle was thrilling, so dark and dangerous. “My little wildcat likes it wild and rough.”
Wildcat. He’d seen my ability to fight yet had no idea how far I was willing to go to keep my independence. My freedom.
Even that excited me. When he replaced his finger with the tip of his cock, I held my breath. His breathing was labored and for a man with no patience, he took his time pushing the tip into my asshole.
Another wash of pain faded into the most pleasurable moment of utter warmth. It felt like an out of body experience, so surreal I was coming closer and closer to ecstasy.
Maybe it was being able to let go around him. Maybe it was the need to toss aside all the lies and fear.
Whatever the case, I was exhilarated.
He pressed his cock inside inch by inch, taking his time while I clawed the cushions.
Every growl he emitted brought a smile, every stroke of his hand a husky moan. He knew exactly how to handle my needs, catching me off guard almost every time.
I’d so wanted to hate him and had almost succeeded. But there was no denying the connection we’d had, even sparring over what could have been a tragedy.
Maybe fate had been kinder than I realized, putting us together for a reason.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathed as he rolled the palm of one hand down my back,
“You’re huge.”
Every time he laughed, I felt as if being with him was completely normal. Right now, doing this, being with him and the heated passion was exactly what I needed.
And what I craved.
He pulled almost all the way out, driving into me again. Soon, I was bucking against him, meeting every brutal thrust. And loving every minute of the explosive sensations tearing through me.
There was so much tension, so much friction but the emotional swing was almost as powerful as the pleasure.
Sinclair cracked his hand against my bottom several additional times and I was shocked how the pain rolled into sheer rapture. How was that even possible?
Every sound he made pulled me into a sweet vacuum and kept me there.
Every brush of his hand was cathartic. Taking me. Claiming me.
Owning me.
Within seconds I could feel a shift in his actions even as my moans became feral, matching the savagery of what he was doing. The heat continued to explode, the wash of perspiration tickling my skin.
He pounded into me like a crazed lion, taking everything he wanted, refusing to release me until I surrendered to him fully and completely.
When I hung my head, clutching the cushions while trying desperately to catch my breath, I sensed he was ready to release. With a smile in my face, I squeezed my muscles, rewarded with his heavy breath cascading across my back, and another series of savage smacks on my bottom.
His body jerked as he finally released, erupting deep inside.
His last sound was an intense roar that floated all around me much like the bright stars were doing in my vision. The warm pulse of his cock continued and I could swear his shaft was swelling, stretching my muscles even more.
He finally slumped over me, pressing the full weight of his body against mine. When he intertwined our fingers, crunching them together, I realized I’d never felt so close to anyone before.
Wrong or right, I didn’t want this to end.
We remained locked together for several minutes until we both resumed normal breathing.
Only then did he pull away while I remained where I was, the warmth of the couch comforting.
Yet with every passing second, the tension began to rise.
He wasn’t known for excessive talking, but I could sense he was waiting for me to begin a conversation.
When the weight shifted, I realized he’d risen from the couch, and I wasn’t certain whether to be relieved or to call him back.
I realized by the rustling sounds he’d at least partially dressed while I couldn’t move a muscle. Clinking was followed by a slight thud on the table. Turning my head slowly, I realized he’d refilled my wine and his drink. But he walked away again, even leaving the room.
Curious, I finally lifted my head. Where had he gone?
Indiana thumped his tail, studying me intently. In his big brown eyes, I could sense he was offering me encouragement. Telling anyone the truth about who I was would always be risky. Telling him felt as if I’d be giving myself a life sentence.
I had no idea what to expect, but my fractured mind was already thinking the worst. That Sinclair was bringing chains or ropes to punish me for lying to him.
Maybe a whip for another harsh spanking.
When he returned with a cloth in his hand, the first thought was he was going to drug me, maybe to dump my body in some ditch or the bayou.
Never to be found.
He had a puzzled look on his face as he approached, easing down beside me. I stiffened as soon as he lowered his hand holding the cloth.
“Do you really think I’m going to hurt you, Josette? Or even worse?” He didn’t wait for my answer before rubbing my bottom. It took me a few seconds to realize the cloth was warm and wet and he was wiping me with gentle strokes.
Cleaning me.
Who did that?
Not a man like him.
“I don’t know. I just…” My words were as awkward as I felt.
He was undaunted by my skittishness, taking his time wiping away remnants of our passion. The warmth felt good on my skin, but it was the tender act that floored me.
“I assure you that if I’d wanted to hurt you even for lying to me, which you have been doing since we met, I wouldn’t have held off in doing so. I don’t like toying with my food.”
“Is that supposed to frighten me?” Why was I remaining where I was instead of fighting to get away from him?
“Not at all. You can hold your own, Josette. You’ve needed time to try and trust me. I certainly didn’t provide you with much reason to do so.”
His words and admittance couldn’t have shocked me any more than they had. When I knew he was finished, folding the washcloth and placing it on the coffee table, I felt as if I remained in suspended animation.